


Darkest Before Dawn

by fictionalfixation



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Angst, Autism, Autistic Spencer Reid, Drug Addict Spencer Reid, Drug Use, Episode: s02e15 Revelations, Gen, Hurt Spencer Reid, Hurt/Comfort, Mentioned Tobias Hankel, Protective BAU Team (Criminal Minds), Protective Derek Morgan, Sad Spencer Reid, Spencer Reid Angst, Spencer Reid Needs a Hug, The BAU Team as Family (Criminal Minds)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-18
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-13 07:41:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 15,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29523123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fictionalfixation/pseuds/fictionalfixation
Summary: JJ enfolded him in her arms again. ‘Spencer, listen to me,’ she whispered. ‘None of that is going to happen. You know why? Because you’re going to get better. You hear me, Spence? You’re going to be okay.’——————————————A story in which Spencer Reid struggles with his dilaudid addiction and the team show they care, because the way the show handled it was terrible.
Relationships: The BAU Team & Spencer Reid
Comments: 28
Kudos: 131





	1. Chapter 1

The Monday after the Tobias Hankel case, Spencer Reid hobbled back into the bullpen as if nothing had happened. He walked right past Morgan, who’s questions of ‘Reid? What the hell you doing here?’, didn’t stop him. He walked right past JJ who stared, mouth slightly agape. He ignored the hard glare of Hotch, watching him like a hawk from his office. Once he reached his desk he all but collapsed into his chair, trying to ignore the fact that his ribs were twinging painfully with every intake of breath. After pulling out some paper from his messenger bag, he became aware of Hotch’s presence behind him. He didn’t look up.

‘Reid.’ 

He still didn’t look up. ‘Yes, sir?’ He tried to focus on his paperwork, but his hands were shaking. Why were they shaking? He didn’t want them to shake. Why wouldn’t they stay still?

‘Reid it’s only been a couple days. You shouldn’t be back here.’

‘I’m fine, Hotch.’

‘Reid, your face is bruised, your feet are cut to pieces, and your ribs are broken.’

‘So I won’t go into the field then.’ Spencer still didn’t look up from his desk. His eyes were fixed on his hands. Still shaking. They wouldn’t stop shaking. 

‘Reid, your ribs are broken because you were given CPR. You suffered cardiac arrest.’

‘Yeah, I remember, believe it or not’. He’d given up trying to write at this point, determined instead to still his hands.

‘You’re not cleared to be here. The team will survive without you for another few days, and then we can talk about a phased return. You’ve suffered a trauma.’

‘It’s not the first time I’ve taken a hit, Hotch. Even you’ve kicked the shit out of me.’ Finally he looked up at his superior. Hotch’s face was impossible to read. Spencer suddenly realised that he’d said that last part rather loudly, and a hush had momentarily fallen over the bullpen. He looked back down at his desk, clenching his jaw. His hands were still shaking. He gripped his right wrist in his other hand in attempt to force it to stop.

‘Reid, let’s speak in my office.’

Spencer waited a few seconds after he felt Hotch walk away before he got up and followed him. Now more than just his team were looking at him.

After stepping into Hotch’s office, he shut the door, standing a little awkwardly in the corner. His boss sat at his desk, regarding Spencer in a way he couldn’t place at first. Then he realised shamefully that Hotch was looking at him like he looked at the people they saved from the unsubs. Like he looked at victims.

‘Take a seat, Reid.’

Reluctantly he did as he was told. ‘Sir-’

‘Reid, you shouldn’t be here. You and I both know it. Physically you’re not even in shape to be in the office, and emotionally you suffered a major traumatic event. It’s departmentally mandated that you take some time off.’

Once again, Spencer found it hard to look his superior in the face. He clutched at the arms of the chair. ‘I don’t want time off, I wanna be here. I’m fine.’

Hotch sighed. ‘It doesn’t take a profiler to see that you haven’t slept in days and that even walking is uncomfortable for you. Why do you want to be here so badly?’

‘I...’ he looked up at Hotch, but the eye contact made him so uncomfortable that he looked down at the desk again. ‘I don’t want you guys to think I’m a liability. I don’t want you to think I can’t do my job now. It- it was my own fault that I was taken. And my fault that JJ was attacked.’ He tried to look up at Hotch again, and ended up staring at the spot between his eyebrows.

‘Reid- it wasn’t your fault. You must know that. We can’t do our jobs if we hold onto guilt like that. We didn’t make these unsubs the way they are. The best we can do is to stop them from hurting anybody else.’ Hotch paused. ‘And Reid...’ he moved his hand forward on the desk, not reaching out to touch Spencer, but reaching out nonetheless. ‘You’re incredibly valuable to this team. I don’t believe there’s anybody else that could’ve put up with torture and let us know where they were in the situation you were in. You’re an asset. That’s why you’re alive.’

 _I’m alive because Tobias resuscitated me and then I shot him,_ Spencer thought, but kept quiet. He could still feel his hands trembling. He crossed his arms tightly.

Hotch continued to study him. ‘That’s not why you refuse to go home though, is it? There’s another reason.’

‘Hotch, there’s no-’

‘Your body language has been defensive from the moment you arrived at work and has become even more so since you sat down in that chair. You can’t seem to control the shaking in your hands. And you keep subconsciously touching your arms, mostly your forearms. I’m aware of your other nervous tics and stims, Spencer, and that isn’t one of them.’

The use of his first name threw him off for a moment, but then Spencer mustered all the strength he had to look Hotch hard in the eye for as long as he could bear. ‘Oh, so now you’re profiling me.’ To his frustration his hands seemed to shake even worse. He tried to fight back the emotions rising in him. The last thing he wanted was to start crying in front of his boss when he’d worked very hard thus far to act like he was okay. No. He was okay.

Hotch sighed again. ‘I’m sorry.’ His voice was surprisingly gentle. ‘Reid... how important is this job to you?’

‘More important than anything.’

‘Then go home.’

Home.

The moments after he shot Hankel and the team came for him, Spencer wasn’t thinking coherent thoughts. He wasn’t thinking at all. His body was flooded with adrenaline and cortisol. And terror. And relief. And need for survival. He had never felt more powerless in his entire life. So, he had convinced himself that taking those bottles from Hankel’s pocket was just a moment of weakness. It was his body’s way of trying to survive, finding something that would bring down all those high running emotions. It was only a moment of weakness, so he hadn’t used them. It was a mistake to even take them. It became harder to keep believing that when he didn’t throw them out. And even harder when he developed the habit of picking up the bottles and staring at them. Harder to shut out that voice in his head that told him what had happened to his body now that he had had an extremely addictive substance in his bloodstream for a couple days. His last resort was getting away, getting to work, hoping that the people around him didn’t notice the withdrawal he already felt, and putting as much distance between him and those bottles as possible. He didn’t want to be at-

-‘Home?’ Reid echoed. ‘I-is that a request or- or an order, sir?’

‘Reid, I’ve already told you that you’re an asset to our team. We can’t lose you. Out there in that bullpen are the greatest profiling minds in the country. And most of them have spent years alongside you. If you value your job...’ another sigh. ‘Then go home.’

Spencer nodded. He stood up from his chair.

Hotch stood too. ‘Spencer, one more thing. I can refer you to one of the bureau’s psychologists if you’d like.’

Spencer shook his head. ‘I’m okay, Hotch.’ He paused. So much had stayed unspoken in their conversation but it was all very loud in his head. He knew that in the state he was in right now somebody was bound to figure out about the drugs. But what was Hotch asking him to do? Just go home for now, and figure out how to get a hold on this so he could still work? To fight through it before it gets any worse? Or was Hotch asking him to succumb to it? To give in and get a fix so that his withdrawal wouldn’t be so obvious? Was he supposed to put his career over his health? In the long term, that wouldn’t work, Spencer thought. If he gives in now then in a few months he’ll be in so deep that people noticing won’t be what threatens his career. He won’t be able to think straight enough to do his job.

He took a shaky breath. ‘I’ll be back as soon as I’m officially cleared.’

Hotch nodded. ‘Good. We need you, Spencer.’

They could need him all they wanted, he thought. He’d failed them once and he knew he was going to fail them again. 

He went home.

He gave in.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spencer´s addiction starts to take over his life, and keeping it secret from the others is harder than he thought.

The next few weeks Spencer felt like he was falling into hell. It was funny how drugs were usually used to make you forget, to make the pain go away - and whilst this was true of the times he was actually high, blissfully floating above himself, the same couldn’t be said for the rest of the shit that came along with his ever deepening addiction. It was more like a painful reminder. Every time he shot up and added a new track mark to his arm he couldn’t help but think about how those first ones got there. How he had pleaded, ‘ _no, I don’t want it, please, I don’t want it._ ’ How he’d been beaten. How he’d died on that floor, as a result of the very chemicals he was now dependent on. He had been resuscitated. But Spencer didn’t really feel like he’d come back, like some part of him really did choke and die on the floor of that cabin.

He would have to be careful with his dosages if he were to avoid another situation like that.

And then there was the guilt, the awful guilt, of coming to and seeing the syringe lying next to him. He was destroying himself. He was supposed to be smart. Smarter than this. He was really starting to hate himself. It wasn’t going to be long before everybody around him caught on, and then what? His career would be taken away from him, his friends would hate him. Doctor Spencer Reid, the BAU’s resident genius, reduced to nothing more than a junkie. The thought made him feel sick and ashamed, and yet he was too weak to avoid it. 

For the time being he was keeping up appearances. Only shooting up when he didn’t have any active cases, at home, in private. It wasn’t ideal; when he was working, most of the time Spencer was coming down from a high or craving one. The team noticed his attitude had changed, and he snapped at them sometimes, but Spencer doubted anybody would suspect anything more than a man re-adjusting to work at the very same job he’d been kidnapped and tortured at only a month or so prior.

At least, that’s how it was for a little while.

One particular case was taking the team longer to solve than usual. They were investigating a series of seemingly random shootings in Seattle, and the unsub seemed to evade them at every turn, always two steps ahead. All of the agents were exhausted. Their third night on the case, back at the hotel, Reid was on his last tether. Whilst his tolerance to dilaudid had been growing, the length of time he could go before withdrawal completely shattered him was only getting shorter. All previous cases to now it had been okay. Even though Spencer had given in to this drug, he had tried to be careful, calculating dosage and times between fixes so that he could minimise his dependency on it. It was stupid. To think he could control something like this. _He_ was stupid. And now here he was, in a hotel room in Seattle with cravings so bad he wanted to tear his hair out - and he was sharing the room with Morgan.

‘Hey kid, you wanna hit the bar down the road? This case is really starting to get to me, and by the looks of it it’s getting to you too. We need a break.’ Derek paused the TV and looked over at Spencer from where he was lying, ankles crossed, on his bed.

Spencer didn’t look up, staring at the stim toy in his hands. It was a mesh tube, closed at both ends, encasing a small metal marble. He pushed the marble back and forth between his fingers. If he focused hard enough on this maybe he could forget how horrible he felt. Maybe he would stop thinking about the emergency stash of dilaudid tucked away inside his messenger bag. 

‘No thanks, Derek,’ he said quietly. ‘You’re right. The case has been hard. I think going down to a bar right now would send me into a sensory overload.’ Spencer had regrettably learned that drug cravings plus sensory overload was possibly the worst thing he could ever experience. Withdrawal already made his head hurt, and going down to a bar right now would almost definitely send him into an intense meltdown. 

‘Ah right, gotcha. Quiet night in then.’ Morgan turned back to the tv and pressed play. As the sound came back Spencer flinched. He hadn’t realised how much it had been bothering him until it was paused.

‘A-actually,’ Spencer started. ‘The TV is kinda too much too. Sorry.’

Morgan turned off the TV. ‘It’s okay. Super quiet night in then.’

‘Hey, Morgan, you can still go out,’ Spencer said. He saw an opportunity. ‘I’m okay being here, and you should go let off some steam.’ He felt so guilty for deceiving Derek like this but he needed to be alone.

‘Are you sure? Reid, I can stay.’

‘No, go, I’m fine I swear. Besides, I think I’d feel better if I turned out the lights in here, and whilst you might be okay with a quiet night in, I doubt you want to have a dark one too.’ He forced a smile. 

Morgan hesitated, but ultimately seemed to buy it, chuckling lightly. There was a hint of concern behind his eyes, but it was most likely about Reid feeling overstimulated rather than any ideas of a hidden opiate addiction.

‘Okay if you’re sure.’ Morgan jumped out of bed and started to grab his coat and shoes. ‘I’ll probably be a few hours, and I’ll make sure to be quiet when I come back in.’

A few hours, great, Spencer thought. That would give him enough time to shoot up and come down without disturbance. He watched as Morgan opened the door to their room.

‘And just in case you’re worried, I’ll only have a couple beers. Can’t be hungover during a case. Now that would just be stupid.’ He gave Spencer a final smile and left.

_Now that would just be stupid._

‘I might be stupid,’ Spencer muttered to himself, ‘but I’m also desperate.’ He got out of bed and turned off the lights (he wasn’t lying to Morgan about that) before grabbing his messenger bag and heading into the en suite. He got out a bottle and a clean syringe. Even without the lights he had no problems. Shooting up was like clockwork now, and he let himself drift away.

* * * 

_Kid._

A voice, swimming to him through the haze, somewhere in the distance.

_Kid. Reid!_

The voice knew his name. ‘You know my name,’ Reid mumbled.

_Reid. Look at me._

The voice was coming closer. An outline of a figure in darkness came into Spencer’s view.

‘Reid. Spencer. Come on, pretty boy, look at me.’

Reid became aware that he was lying on cold tiles, and it was dark. He felt a hand under his head. 

‘Dark,’ Spencer said.

‘You want me to turn the lights on? I- I kept them off cos I didn’t want you to get overwhelmed. I can turn them on if you want.’ The voice sounded concerned.

‘Noooo,’ Reid moaned groggily. He waved a hand around. ‘Keep it dark.’

‘Okay. Spencer, can you get up?’

‘Who are you?’ Spencer croaked. His mouth felt like it was full of sand.

‘Spencer it’s me, Derek.’

Spencer opened his eyes a little more. There was a torch in the corner of the bathroom facing away from them, and by its dim light he could just about make out Derek’s blurry features above him. 

‘Oh fuck,’ he managed to say.

‘Can you get up, kid?’

‘Oh fuck,’ Reid said again. Anxiety welled up in his chest. Tears brimmed in his eyes. _Now that would just be stupid,_ Morgan had said earlier. Reid was stupid, so goddamn stupid. He had no clue how much time had passed but he was still so high. Yet lucid enough to realise that Morgan being here right now was bad news. A wave of shame and fear and guilt crashed down on him, and the tears fell, his body shaking slightly.

‘Hey, kid, shhh, it’s okay, I’m here now.’ Morgan’s voice was gentle. 

‘Here now,’ Reid said quietly through tears.

‘I should get help,’ Morgan said. ‘Hotch could-’

‘Hotch could!’ Reid sobbed. He reached up and gripped Morgans shirt and shook his head furiously. Through the haze in Reid’s addled brain one clear thought cut through: _please don’t tell anyone else._

Morgan must’ve seen the terror in his eyes. ‘Okay, okay, Reid. No Hotch. No anyone. I promise.’ Spencer released Morgan’s shirt. 

The next thing Reid was aware of was waking up on his bed with a pounding headache.

‘Derek?’ He whispered. 

He felt a weight on the mattress next to him, and a hand brushed hair from his face. ‘Hey, kid,’ Derek said in a hushed voice. ‘Can I get you anything?’

‘Water,’ said Spencer.

‘Okay, got it.’ The weight next to him lifted, and he heard the tap run in the bathroom. Derek returned and turned on a lamp in the corner before slowly helping up Spencer and offering him the cup. He drank.

‘Is the light okay?’ Morgan asked. Reid nodded.

‘Okay. Do you remember what happened?’

Reid nodded again. He felt something fall onto his hand. He looked down. It was a teardrop. For a second he was mildly surprised, before his body was wracked with sobs once again.

‘Oh, hey, it’s okay.’ Derek tentatively put a hand on Spencer’s shoulder. When he didn’t pull away, Derek decided to try putting an arm around him. When he felt Spencer’s weight shift towards him, he took it as a cue to pull him into a proper hug, holding him whilst he cried.

‘Hey, pretty boy, it’s okay. When you’ve calmed down we can talk, okay?’ Spencer nodded again, leaning into Morgan. He was absolutely terrified of what was going to happen, but his friend’s warmth and the weight of his arms were comforting.

After a few minutes, Spencer had stopped crying and was sitting up again. He was playing with the marble in the mesh tube once more, trying to work off the panic that was burning in his chest. Morgan looked at him in concern.

‘Are you ready to talk now?’ Morgan said gently.

Reid nodded.

‘ _Can_ you talk now? Earlier I think you were only repeating my words.’

Reid blushed. He went semi verbal sometimes, and now was one of those times. It was rare and nobody on the team had ever seen him like that before. Until now. 

‘Echolalia,’ Reid explained. ‘Autistic thing.’ His face felt hot. He avoided looking at Morgan.

‘Okay, understood. You don’t need to be embarrassed, kid. It’s not like I didn’t know you were autistic.’ Morgan put a hand reassuringly on Spencer’s arm. ‘How about now? You okay for a conversation?’

‘Talking is hard,’ Spencer replied. ‘But yes.’

‘Alright,’ Morgan said. ‘We’ll go at your pace.’

‘Stupid,’ Spencer spat bitterly. He put his head in his hands. ‘Stupid.’

‘Reid, you’re not stupid. You have an encyclopaedic knowledge of almost anything, just because talking is hard right now doesn’t make me think you’re stupid. You know everything.’

‘Stupid,’ Spencer said again. ‘Now that would be stupid. Morgan.’ He looked up at Morgan.

‘Oh,’ said Morgan. He sighed. ‘Listen, kid. Going out and purposely getting drunk when you have to work a case the next day is stupid. This,’ he gestured at Spencer, ‘is different.’

‘Case. Job,’ Spencer muttered angrily. He prodded at his chest. ‘Supposed to be smart.’

‘Reid, I looked at the bottles. Dilaudid. That’s...’ Morgan sighed empathetically. ‘That’s what Hankel used, right? That’s not a coincidence.’

Spencer stayed silent.

‘I knew you were acting different after that case, but I just figured- hell, I knew he tortured you, Reid, but- God. He did this to you, didn’t he? That son of a bitch drugged you,’ Derek said. 

Spencer looked at him, before nodding in confirmation.

Derek looked away angrily. ‘It’s not your fault, Spencer. He held you for days, and drugged you, and it takes less for this shit to get its claws in you.’ He looked back at Spencer, eyes full of concern. ‘I’m so sorry.’

‘Sorry?’ Spencer asked.

‘Yeah. I’m so sorry. I should’ve noticed. I mean, I noticed something was up, but I should’ve asked. It’s been over a month and I never asked, I’m so sorry Reid, I should’ve-’

Spencer stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. ‘Derek,’ he said, ‘it’s okay. You didn’t know.’

The two sat quietly for a moment.

‘Okay, kid, listen to me.’ Morgan broke the silence. ‘It’s currently...’ he checked his watch, ‘...2am. You’re gonna get another drink of water, a snack if you need, and you’re gonna get some sleep. Tomorrow, I’ll make sure you and me get assigned the same tasks and I’ll keep an eye on you. I would say that you should take a day off but I don’t think you should be by yourself.’ 

Reid nodded. His eyelids were suddenly very heavy. ‘Derek?’ He asked.

‘Yeah, pretty boy?’

‘Can’t tell anyone else. Lose job. Lose...’

‘I understand.’

‘Lose team,’ Spencer whispered. 

‘That’s not gonna happen, Reid. You’re not going anywhere, I swear. Let me get you more water.’

‘Okay,’ Spencer said quietly. He appreciated Morgan’s help, but a large part of him didn’t think he deserved any of it. It would only be a matter of time before Morgan realised how pathetic Spencer actually was.

His eyes drifted to his messenger bag, which Morgan had replaced by the hotel room door. 

‘Lose team.’


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Reid’s job is starting to get difficult.

Morgan knowing about Spencer’s drug problem was both a help and a hindrance. A help because Derek made sure that Spencer ate breakfast and drank water when they were on cases. A hindrance because every time they were in the same room Reid felt so disgusted with himself and the fact that Morgan knew what was going on with him, that he had to fight every urge to run for the hills. That, plus Morgan hadn’t had a proper talk with him yet about it, but Reid was sure it was on the horizon. The only reason they hadn’t spoken about it properly so far was because they had been working cases almost non stop recently. But he was sure that Morgan was going to try and reach out to him. He dreaded it.

It was getting even harder to keep up a facade of health around his team. Spencer had a perpetual headache and his sensory issues had gotten so much worse, so he was always wearing sunglasses. What’s more, he was visibly losing weight, but hoped to hide it under cardigans and sweater vests. It wasn’t really working.

JJ even pulled him aside once whilst they were working a case in Denver. They were the only ones from the BAU in the police department - the rest in the field - and Spencer was desperately trying to concentrate on his geographical profile. The lines he had drawn in marker started to swim a little before him, and he put the pen down. Seeing him pause to pinch the bridge of his nose, JJ pulled him into a quieter room.

‘Spence, you wanna take a break?’ She asked. ‘You’re not looking great today. When was the last time you ate something?’

Reid looked away, wringing his hands. It wasn’t good that other people could see he was so sickly.

‘Morgan got me a bagel on the jet,’ he said, hoping that would suffice.

‘And before that?’

‘Um, last night. I got a Chinese.’ It was an obvious lie. Reid had never been good at lying, save when a case called for it. It didn’t feel like lying then though, it felt like work. 

JJ clearly didn’t believe him, but pursed her lips and didn’t question it. ‘I can get Morgan to do the profile if you want. He’s not that far away, I can call him now.’

‘No, no, I’m fine,’ Spencer lied. ‘I’m just gonna go to the restroom for a moment and then I’ll come back and finish.’ He walked out of the room before JJ could protest, grabbed his messenger bag and headed for the bathroom. Once inside, he locked himself in the farthest stall and pulled a couple vials from his bag. His vision was so blurred from lack of sleep and nutrition that he couldn’t even read the label on them. The fluorescent lighting in the bathroom wasn’t helping. Still, it wasn’t as if he needed to read it to know what it said, and that was nothing to do with his eidetic memory. The curve of the glass, the grooves in the lid, the weight of the bottle in his hand, it was all so familiar now. And it was comforting.

He hadn’t even realised he was halfway to shooting up until he’d taken a clean syringe out of the plastic. Aghast, he dropped it onto the bathroom floor. He couldn’t get high at work. He just couldn’t. He would be fired instantly, not to mention wasting valuable time when there were real lives at stake.He should just pick up the syringe and put it back in his bag, along with the bottles. He picked up the syringe. Now he just needed to put it away. Reid didn’t move. _Come on,_ he thought, _just put them away_. He stayed frozen, like a deer in headlights. 

‘Just put them away,’ he muttered to himself. Still, he didn’t move. ‘You’re so useless!’ 

Tears were coming to his eyes now, blurring his vision even more. He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t fucking do it. In fact, he was afraid that if he did start to move, he would shoot up, which was the worst possible thing that could happen right now. 

‘Reid?’ The door to the bathroom swung open and Morgan’s voice echoed off of the tiles.

Okay, second worst possible thing.

Morgan tapped on the stall door. ‘Reid, I know you’re in there. What’s going on?’

‘Morgan?’ Reid asked, confused. His gaze was still transfixed on the syringe and bottles. ‘What are you doing here?’

‘JJ called, pretty boy. She said you weren’t feeling well, so I came and finished up with your geographical profile. She said you’d been in here a while.’ He sounded concerned.

‘You finished my profile? Where is he?’

‘Well you were 90% done with it anyway, kid. You can take a look after. Will you tell me what’s going on?’

‘Morgan, I, I can’t...’ Spencer trailed off.

Morgan’s shadow shifted under the door. ‘You can’t what, Reid?’

Spencer swallowed. ‘I can’t stop myself, Derek. I- I need you to stop me.’

Morgan sighed. ‘Okay. It’s okay. Can you open the stall for me? Then I can help you.’

Shakily, Spencer reached out and pushed back the latch on the door with the hand that held the syringe, not loosening his grip on it whatsoever. Light fell into the stall and Morgan stepped in, taking Spencer’s hands in his own. Spencer blinked tears out of his eyes and looked up into the face of his friend. This was twice now that Derek had seen something like this and Spencer despised himself for it. He despised himself doubly for needing Derek to save him right now. Just like he’d needed saving when he was being held captive in that goddamn cabin.

‘Alright, Reid, I need you to let me take these, okay?’ Morgan’s fingers shifted around the objects in Spencer’s hands, careful to avoid the exposed needle. 

Reid’s grip only tightened.

‘Reid, come on, I don’t wanna take these from you by force. You know I could easily take your scrawny ass on your best days.’ Morgan joked, attempting to make Spencer smile. He did a little, but he still didn’t loosen his grip.

Morgan dug his fingers into Spencer’s enclosed fists. ‘I want this to be as easy as possible okay?’

At that, Spencer gave in and relaxed his fingers. Morgan was right, Spencer couldn’t possibly have held onto them if he tried. His friend gently took the objects, holding the syringe a little gingerly. Spencer let out a sigh of relief. Morgan stepped out of the stall, turned- and suddenly something snapped in Spencer.

‘Wait!’ Spencer screamed, leaping out of the stall. He couldn’t let Morgan take them away from him. Spencer lunged at him, attempting to grab the drugs and needle, but ending up knocking them out of his hand. The bottles smashed. The needle skidded across the room.

JJ burst into the room. ‘What’s going on?’, she demanded.

The men froze. _Shit,_ Spencer thought. He stared at the syringe that had landed directly in front of JJ’s foot.

‘JJ, I thought you were keeping people out of the bathroom,’ Morgan said.

‘I was, but I heard shouting, and I...’ JJ trailed off, eyes falling first on horrified look on Reid’s face, then the smashed glass on the ground, and finally the syringe lying at her feet. ‘Spencer,’ she sighed.

‘I can take care of this,’ said Morgan, gesturing towards the door, ‘JJ, it’s nothing to worry about.’ 

‘No way,’ she said, walking over to Spencer. She pulled him into a hug and he softened, burying his face in her shoulder and letting her squeeze him tightly. He felt all of his muscles relax.

Morgan watched his two friends for a moment, before saying, ‘JJ, I doubt you were the only one that heard him shout like that, plus people will be wondering why I had you keep them outta here. I’m gonna go tell them that he felt sick or had a panic attack or something. Can you stay here with Reid? I’ll come back and help you clean up. We can’t leave this stuff here.’

JJ nodded, running her fingers soothingly through Spencer’s hair. The man was breathing deeply and trembling. Just before Morgan left the room, JJ said ‘Derek? Can you grab something for Spencer to eat?’

‘Sure. I’ll be back soon.’ Morgan left.

In her embrace, Spencer imagined that JJ could feel exactly how thin and frail he really was. He felt horrible that she was here, and that she knew the truth, and wished that he was alone and that none of this had happened, but at the same he didn’t want this hug to end.

‘I’m so sorry,’ he mumbled into her shoulder.

‘Shh,’ she hushed, continuing to stroke his hair softly. 

‘No, I’m so fucking sorry. JJ, I’m pathetic, I’ve let you down, I’ve let the team down, I’ve-’

‘Hey,’ JJ interrupted, holding Spencer at arms length. ‘You’ve got nothing to apologise for. If anything it should be me, I- I knew that you weren’t the same after the Hankel case. I couldn’t have imagined this but if I’d only looked after you better back then, if I hadn’t let you go off on your own...’

‘It’s not your job to look after me. I probably deserve this anyway.’

‘Of course it’s my job, Spence. That’s what friends are for. You’re the teams baby brother, and it’s our job to look out for you. I’m sorry we didn’t. The team- The team would want to help, you know, let us-’

‘No,’ Reid said, shaking his head. ‘Please. Hotch already knows, and-’

‘Hotch knows? And he hasn’t tried to help you?’ 

‘He hasn’t actually said that he knows, but he- he knows. We had a conversation a while ago. He knows what’s going on but he can’t acknowledge it.’ He looked up at his friend. ‘You know as well as I do, JJ, that he would be obliged to report it. And I would lose my job. I can’t lose my job.’

‘But- can’t you try take some time off?’

Spencer sighed, shaking his head again. ‘No. If I do anything that makes it obvious that I- I-’, he paused. He couldn’t say the words. _Anything that makes it obvious that I have a drug problem,_ he was going to say.

‘Or anything that the rest of the team would clearly notice,’ he continued, ‘Hotch will be putting his job on the line to cover for me. Right now, he can claim ignorance. But if I take a month off, or- or you and Morgan start acting like something’s wrong, then if any of the higher ups find out there is no way they’ll believe that Hotch didn’t know. Or that you and Morgan didn’t know. Then everybody’s job is endangered. And it would be all my fucking fault.’ He let out a single sob.

JJ enfolded him in her arms again. ‘Spencer, listen to me,’ she whispered. ‘None of that is going to happen. You know why? Because you’re going to get better. You hear me, Spence? You’re going to be okay.’


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spencer struggles at Quantico under the pressure that Morgan and JJ know about his problem.

Some days, Reid worked in Garcia’s office, when he wanted to escape the noise and lights of the bullpen. It was funny how sometimes he could get so absorbed in paperwork that the world around him seemed to fade away and other times he could barely write a single word for being distracted by the clicking of another agent’s pen. Today was one of the latter days. 

He was curled into one of Garcia’s roller chairs - it was a little too small for him and his long limbs, but he didn’t mind too much because he enjoyed spinning in it. It was especially quiet as Penelope had gone for her lunch break, leaving the room absent of the clackety-clack of her typing. The only noise was the gentle hum of computer fans. Yet even in the near silence Spencer was still having trouble concentrating. His mind was too occupied with a conversation that had occurred earlier that day.

Needing to speak with an agent on a different floor, Spencer had gotten into the elevator, only for JJ and Derek to hastily follow him in. The past few days they seemed to be taking any opportunity to be around him - JJ would make coffee when he went to make coffee, even though she didn’t like coffee nearly as much as Reid did, and ended up giving him plenty of half finished cups; Morgan would ask him if he wanted to get lunch together; on one occasion Morgan had even turned up on a Saturday evening unannounced with takeout. During these occasions they would try and check up on him, asking him things like ‘how’re you doing?’, and ‘have you eaten today?’, and ‘anything you need from me?’

Reid appreciated the sentiment but was starting to dread being around them. He told them what they wanted to hear, of course: ‘I’m doing fine,’ and ‘I had eggs for breakfast,’ and ‘nope, I don’t need anything.’ But the idea that they were keeping tabs on him was horrible. What they were really hoping for, he supposed, was for him to say, ‘oh I’m great! My drug problem has completely disappeared!’. It made him feel sick that they were looking for signs of recovery, when he knew how bad everything really was. Every time they spoke to him all he could think about was how he was letting them down. 

So when they cornered him in the elevator, Reid immediately felt a surge of guilt before anybody had even said anything.

‘Where you headed?’ Morgan asked.

‘Eleventh,’ Spencer replied quickly. He looked at his shoes as Morgan pushed the button. It would only take 48 seconds to get to the eleventh floor. Only 48. As the elevator started to move he began to count down in his head, tapping out the seconds on the side of his leg.

‘Spencer,’ JJ said softly, ‘We need to talk to you.’

He didn’t reply, not wanting to lose count. 37 seconds.

‘Look, kid, we know you’re not in a good place,’ Morgan started. ‘You can tell us as many times as you like that you’re okay but we know you’re not. We’re...’ He exchanged a look with JJ. ‘We’re really worried about you, Reid.’

‘Let us help you,’ JJ added.

‘I don’t want your help,’ Spencer said quietly. Crap, he’d lost count now. How much longer? 25 seconds? Less? His fingers drummed more frantically at the side of his leg.

‘Yeah, figured you might’ve said that,’ Morgan sighed. He reached out and pushed the emergency stop button, and the elevator lurched to a halt. 

_No no no_ , Spencer thought. Both of his hands were now flapping worriedly at his sides. It was only supposed to take 48 seconds. Only 48. Now what? He tried to push down the panic that was beginning to work up inside of him. 

‘Morgan, start the elevator,’ he said forcefully.

Morgan folded his arms across his chest. ‘Not until you hear us out.’

Spencer didn’t say anything, staring at his shoes.

‘You need help, Spencer,’ JJ said. ‘Look, we’ve done some research and compiled some resources that could be of use to you. You can’t go on like this, Reid, it’s... it’s serious.’

‘You have no idea how bad it is,’ Reid blurted suddenly, head snapping up to look at JJ. It took a second to register how hurt she looked, and he immediately felt guilty. ‘I- I can’t get help,’ he said in a low voice. And privately he thought about how he didn’t want to get help. Every moment he wasn’t high was stressful and loud and took up _so. Much. Energy._ Why would he give up the only thing that was helping him? In that moment he realised: there wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do to keep his habit. It was a terrifying realisation - he had lost. He’d lost to the drugs, he thought. But at the same time he wasn’t surprised. He’d lost. He accepted it. In a way, he sort of didn’t care.

‘You have no idea how bad it is,’ he said again, more quietly.

‘Reid, there’s always hope,’ Morgan said gently. ‘Even when you think you’re at rock bottom. You know what they say, it’s always darkest before the dawn.’

Reid just looked at him. He didn’t believe Morgan and wasn’t sure if he even wanted to believe him. ‘Can you please start the elevator now?’, he asked, the anxiety in his voice poorly disguised.

‘As long as you take this,’ JJ asked, holding out a folded piece of paper she’d pulled from her pocket. ‘It’s a list of support services and other resources.’

Snatching the paper a little more forcefully than intended, Spencer shoved it into his inside pocket. He had no intention of looking at it, but he was desperate to get out of the elevator.

Now, hours later, scrunched into one of Garcia’s office chairs, Reid couldn’t keep his mind from returning to and replaying the conversation. Well, that and thinking about how much he was itching for a fix. Even getting through a whole work day without one was becoming laborious. He sighed, discarding his paperwork and putting his head down onto the desk. 

‘Hey, my good doctor, you okay?’ Penelope stepped into her office. 

Spencer lifted his head and hummed in reply. 

‘You’ve barely moved since you got back, and I didn’t actually think you would have, so I got you something to eat,’ she smiled, fishing a sandwich box from her handbag and placing it down on the desk in front of Spencer. ‘Cheese and tomato, with butter instead of mayo.’

‘Thanks, Garcia,’ Spencer said, giving her half a smile.

She looked at him for a moment as if considering him. ‘You know what?’, she said, sitting down in her own chair and scooching over to him, ‘Lunch hour isn’t up for another ten minutes, so why don’t you tell me what’s on your mind?’

‘Well, right now I’m thinking about how a lot of what we consider the pillars of modern psychology and especially psychiatry are actually just western psychologists taking eastern ideals and changing the name. For example, Maslow’s hierarchy of needs, first proposed in 1943, is actually just a western rebranding of the much older idea of the chakra system which originated in India between 1500 and 500 BC, yet Maslow is considered scientific whereas chakras are considered to be hippie or purely spiritual. It’s interesting because-’

‘Reid, my beautiful genius?’ Penelope interrupted. ‘Like I said before, lunch hour is up in ten minutes. I meant tell me what’s bothering you. I can see that something’s upsetting you, and has been for a while now. I didn’t wanna push you but it seems like it’s only getting worse. And I know JJ and Derek know because she looks like somebody’s kicked her puppy dog whenever you speak on cases, and Derek, oh, my drop dead gorgeous Derek, has not been nearly as workplace inappropriate with me lately. So come on. Talk to me before the tomato juices in your sandwich soak into the bread. I know you hate that.’

Spencer was a little taken aback. ‘Penelope? Are you sure your job title is technical analyst and not profiler?’

His friend laughed. ‘Oh, no, my sweet potato pie. It’s hardly profiling. It’s just knowing my friends well.’ 

Reid nodded. ‘Well, you’re right, I do hate it when tomatoes ruin my bread.’

‘Exactly,’ Garcia grinned. ‘So talk to me.’

He sighed, looking down at his hands, which were fussing over the hems of his sleeves. He was actually considering telling her the truth. Of course he knew that any other agents finding out was not good, and telling Penelope after both Derek and JJ had already found out pushed both his job and Hotch’s a little further towards endangerment. And aside from that, he was so ashamed and angry at himself that he didn’t want to admit what was going on. Didn’t want to let down yet another of his friends. 

But at the same time, he was so fucking miserable and anxious that he was inclined to tell her. And he’d not really had the chance to talk about it. Well, he hadn’t really wanted to before, but now he was almost convinced. 

After a couple minutes of silent contemplation, he looked up at Garcia. ‘If I tell you, do you promise to not freak out? Or smother me in Penelope affection?’

Penelope gasped in mock horror. ‘Good sir, when have I _ever_ done such a thing?’

‘Hmm, how about that time an unsub punched me in the face and you brought me freshly baked cookies every day until the black eye healed?’ Spencer said, smiling. Wow, it had been a while since he’d genuinely smiled. ‘Or what about how you had various get well soon gifts delivered to my house every day I was off work after-’ his voice faltered. _After the Hankel case._

‘Hey, what can I say, giving gifts is my love language,’ Penelope smiled, ignoring how he had trailed off. ‘However,’ she said, raising her right hand, ‘I promise not to freak out or smother you in Penelope affection.’

‘Okay,’ Spencer said. He took a shaky breath. ‘I could lose my job over this, Garcia.’

His friend smiled sympathetically. ‘The fact that you’re considering telling me tells me that there are worse things at stake.’

Spencer nodded. He made a mental note to himself, that for all her joking about being a tech analyst surrounded profilers, Penelope could be incredibly perceptive at times.

‘So, you know the um, the Hankel case?’ he started. Penelope nodded, silently reassuring him that he could continue. ‘Tobias Hankel, he was a- a drug addict. And you don’t know this because you didn’t read my report- well, only Hotch has read my report, and I- well- did you know that approximately 2.1 million Americans have an opioid use disorder? Addiction like that can be severely detrimental, and-’

‘Oh, Spencer,’ Penelope interrupted. She put her hands on his shoulders. ‘I know I promised not to smother you in Penelope affection but is a little okay?’

Spencer nodded, and allowed Garcia to pull him into a hug. ‘He drugged me, Garcia,’ he whispered. ‘And now I can’t stop.’

She pulled apart from him. ‘I- I don’t even know what to say, Reid, that’s so horrible, oh my gosh.’ She was tearing up a little. ‘I’m so sorry this has happened to you.’

‘It’s okay,’ Reid said. _I probably deserve it,_ he was thinking privately. ‘Opioids trigger the release of endorphins,’ he said. He found reciting information like this calming. ‘And when they wear off, the brain wants to experience them again as soon as possible. It even reduces the production of non drug-induced endorphins. It’s interesting how addiction like this literally chemically changes the brain and body. You simply cannot feel happiness in the same way without drugs.’ 

A silence fell over them both. Reid knew that they were both thinking the same thing, that he had meant _I simply cannot_ and not _you simply cannot._ But he wasn’t strong enough to admit that to himself, never mind to another person.

‘Thank you for trusting me with this,’ Garcia said, finally breaking the quiet. ‘Now eat your sandwich before the bread completely loses structural integrity.’ She managed a small smile.

‘Lunch hour ended three minutes ago,’ Spencer stated.

‘And yet you still haven’t eaten, boy wonder.’

‘Okay fine, I’ll eat the sandwich but I’ve got work to get back to after.’

‘Screw that,’ Garcia said, jumping out of her seat and snatching up Spencer’s pile of paperwork before he could protest. ‘Reid, you’re always doing everybody else’s paperwork. I’m sure JJ and Morgan won’t mind doing it for you this once. They owe you,’ she smiled.

‘You’re not gonna change your mind, are you?’ Spencer sighed.

‘Nope,’ Penelope smiled, popping the P. ‘You, doctor, are stubborn, but when it comes to taking care of friends, I am even more so.’ She promptly left the room with his paperwork, and returned five minutes later, empty handed. ‘If you still wanna hang out in here, that’s okay. I know, how about...’ she sat down at her chair, hands flying into a flurry of typing, before a familiar scene came up on the monitor closest to Reid. 

‘Doctor Who,’ he smiled. 

‘Yep,’ Penelope said, adjusting the monitor so Spencer could see it better. ‘Season one, episode one. I have them all downloaded on here, don’t tell Hotch.’ She turned to Reid. ‘Now sit back, relax, and enjoy the dulcet, northern English tones of Christopher Ecclestone and the cockney charm of beautiful Billie Piper.’ She hit play.

Spencer would have protested, except he was kind of exhausted. He curled his limbs into the desk chair and started to pick slowly at the sandwich Penelope had brought him. The bread was slightly too damp but he ate it anyway, partly because he suddenly realised how ravenous he was and partly because he was grateful to Garcia for getting it for him. He was grateful for her being there for him too. There was a large part of him that felt anxious and guilty for telling her, but a larger part of him felt relieved. It was the first time he actually got to tell somebody on his own terms.

Penelope had returned to her work, relieved that she had gotten Spencer to take a proper break. God, he needed it, he needed it so badly. The only thing that was stopping her from breaking down into tears about the pain he was in was the fact that she knew he needed stability and support right now. She had to help him. She pulled up a search engine, and looked over at Reid. He was wholly focussed on the show, and to her delight, was muttering the dialogue under his breath. He looked so tired. She turned her gaze back to her screen and hesitantly typed: _‘How to help a friend with a drug addiction.’_


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shit starts to go down

It was 4am when the phone rang, and Spencer was already awake.

‘Reid? How soon can you come in? We’ve got a case.’

Spencer couldn’t recall what he said in response but it must have been acceptable, as Hotch ended the call with a brief ‘alright, see you then,’ before hanging up. As he stumbled around his apartment trying to gather his things, he thought about how there was nothing better than a fresh case for intellectual stimulation.

Except, of course, when you’re high nearly out of your mind.

Upon entering the bullpen he immediately tripped and fell onto his face - his coordination, which was poor at the best of times, was definitely not helped by shooting up. He felt strong hands lift him up, and looked up into the Morgan’s concerned face.

‘Reid, you okay man? I knew you were clumsy but, damn,’ Morgan said, seeing Reid to his feet.

‘Derek!’ Reid cried. ‘How are you, man? Ah, there’s no sight better for sore eyes than your beautiful face at-’ he glanced at a clock on the wall - ‘4:37 in the morning.’ He smiled a lopsided smile. ‘I have no idea how I got here, but I got here, and that’s a win for Spencer. I deserve coffee.’

It was then that Spencer noticed the baffled expressions of JJ, Prentiss and Garcia, standing at the top of the stairs. ‘Hey guys!’ Spencer exclaimed. ‘Do any of you want coffee? I’m getting coffee.’ He started to make his way over to the coffee machine, wobbling just a little. When he reached it he flipped on the switch before going very still and quiet, eyes unfocused.

‘Reid!’ Morgan hissed, grabbing Spencer by the shoulder and making him blink a couple times as if coming back from a trance. ‘Are you high right now?’ Morgan asked as he glanced around, concerned. 

‘Derek!’ Spencer hissed back, mimicking Morgan’s tone and grabbing Morgan’s shoulder. ‘Yes. Absolutely. Suuuper fucking high. You could kick me in the balls right now and I wouldn’t feel a thing.’ He grinned. His words were slurred slightly, eyes still glazed over, as if he wasn’t really seeing anything around him.

‘Reid what are you thinking?!’ Morgan whispered. ‘You can’t come to work like this. You’re so goddamn lucky that Hotch didn’t see you just now.’

‘Oh yeah, unit chief Hotchner,’ Spencer said, stretching out the r sound. It felt good to say. ‘Hotchner, Hotchner, Hotchnerrr,’ he mumbled under his breath. ‘It’s his fault, not mine. Don’t blame me. Already shot up when he called. I’m just being a good subordinate by coming in. Now-’ Reid turned away from the coffee machine and pointed a stirrer at Derek, ‘-If I’d had a time machine and had received the call and then decided to come in high anyway instead of going back in time and not doing a shit load of drugs? Yes. That would be irresponsible of me. And I would promise you that if I ever came into possession of a time machine that I would go back and un do it but if time travel were ever invented it would only be physically possible to go back to the point where it was first created and no further. And seeing as it hasn’t been invented yet-’ (he made a tutting noise) ‘- I guess I’m just gonna have to disappoint you, Morgan. Now where is Hotch anyway?’

Morgan took a second to respond, stunned by Spencer’s behaviour. ‘He’s on the phone to Gideon in his office, and he said he needed to call Haley afterwards. We gotta do something about you before he sees you like this, man.’

Spencer seemed to ignore him, staring intensely at his now full coffee cup. ‘I did so much, Derek. So much. More than I have before. I’ve got to, or I don’t feel it. You would think I would feel it pretty easily when you consider how low my blood sugar has been lately. But no, I’ve steadily built up quite a high tolerance.’ He looked up at Morgan and smiled. ‘If I keep upping my dosages at this rate then pretty soon I might have another cardiac arrest.’ To Morgan’s utter horror, Reid laughed. ‘Man, that would suck. The first time was not fun.’

Derek found himself at a loss for words. To his relief, Penelope appeared at his side. ‘Hey Morgan, anything I can help with here? How are you feeling, Boy Wonder?’

‘Fan-fucking-tastic, Garcia. The surge of dopamine I’m experiencing right now is comparable to a really long orgasm. Well, only sort of, because there are a number of other chemical differences, but uh,’ Reid waved his free hand around, ‘endorphins, sex, drugs, you get it.’ 

Garcia stared in stunned silence for a second, before turning to Morgan. ‘We don’t have a lot of time before Hotch is done on the phone. Let me take Reid out of here. You tell the team he’s sick or something, I don’t know.’ She took the coffee from Spencer’s hand and passed it to Morgan.

‘Hey, my coffee!’ Spencer protested.

Garcia took him by the shoulders and started to steer him away. ‘Reid honey, I don’t think you need any coffee right now. Come on, I’m gonna take you to my office, and then after the briefing I’ll take you home.’ She threw a desperate glance back at Derek. 

Morgan watched her helplessly, before setting down Reid’s untouched coffee and walking back up the stairs to meet JJ and Prentiss. He exchanged a worried look with JJ.

‘Is Reid okay?’, asked Prentiss.

‘Yeah, yeah,’ Morgan lied. ‘He has the flue but he came in anyway like the stubborn kid he is, all hopped up on cold medicine, so Garcia’s putting him in her office and then she’s gonna take him home after the briefing. Don’t worry though, he’ll be fine.’

‘I’m sure he will be,’ JJ agreed. ‘Tough kid.’

Emily studied them both for a moment. ‘I know that’s not what’s going on, and I know you’re both trying to cover it up. Look- I get it, you’ve known Reid and the team for years whereas I’ve only been here a few months. Maybe you’re not sure if you can trust me. But I swear I want nothing more than to be a part of this team, and I care about Reid too. I would never do anything to hurt him or you. Never.’ She waited for a response, but the other two stayed silent. She looked around. ‘It’s drugs, isn’t it?’ She asked in a low voice.

Then the elevator opened and Gideon rushed into the bullpen, and at the same time Hotch stepped out of his office and swept towards the conference room. The other the three agents left the question hanging in the air and followed him in.

When they were seated at the round table, Gideon apologised for being late and Hotch asked, ‘Where are Garcia and Reid?’

‘Oh, Reid was here but he has the flu,’ Emily spoke up. She avoided JJ and Morgans’ gaze. ‘Garcia took him to her office and she’s there with him now making sure he’s okay, and then after the briefing she’s going to take him home.’

‘Ah, okay. So he’s not well enough to fly?’ Hotch asked. Prentiss shook her head. Hotch pursed his lips.‘Perhaps after he’s recovered if we’re still working the case he’ll be able to come and meet us.’

At that moment Penelope rushed into the room. ‘I am so sorry, sir, I-’

‘Garcia, it’s not a problem, Prentiss already informed me that Reid has the flu,’ Hotch cut in calmly. Penelope couldn’t be sure, as his voice was always so monotone, but she thought she heard some emphasis on the word _flu_. ‘Now if we’re done with disturbances, can we please get on with the briefing?’

‘Of course, sir.’

***

‘Garcia, why am I in your apartment?’, groaned Spencer, slowly sitting up on Garcia’s couch. He had no clue how he had gotten there and his head hurt like a bitch. He couldn’t actually see Penelope but assumed she was around somewhere. He could see her keys on the counter and the lights were on.

‘Oh, you’re awake!’ Garcia said, coming into view. She was wrapped in a fuzzy pink gown and holding a spoon in one hand. ‘You’re at my apartment cos I drove you here after- well. What do you remember?’

Reid rubbed his temples, sitting up a little more. ‘I... I remember Hotch calling. I went to work.’ He squinted in confusion. ‘Garcia shouldn’t I be on the jet right now? There’s a case, I can’t miss a case. They need me.’ He got up from the couch, still holding his head, other arm out to balance himself. ‘Where’s my go bag, Penelope? I’ve got to go.’

‘Woah, woah there, Superman,’ Garcia said, holding Reid in place and gently easing him back down onto the couch. ‘You’re not going anywhere.’ She seated herself next to him. ‘Spencer-’

‘My head hurts,’ Spencer croaked, interrupting. ‘It hurts like...’ he trailed off. He looked up at Garcia with worried eyes. ‘I went to work, and you drove me here. And I woke up on your couch, and my head hurts, and I’m dehydrated. Oh god.’ He leaned started to rock back and forth, tapping at his chest. ‘Penelope, what did I do?’ Panic was spreading throughout his body and Reid couldn’t fight it; he began to hyperventilate.

‘Oh, Reid, okay, hang on-’ Garcia jumped out of her seat and rushed off, returning moments later without the spoon but with a glass of water which she set on the end table. ‘Can I touch you?’ She asked, sitting down next to him again.

Spencer shook his head furiously, continuing to rock.

‘Okay, okay. Listen to me, okay? Lean forward and put your head between your knees, and breathe slowly,’ Penelope instructed, fighting to keep her tone calm. ‘We can count breaths together, okay?’ She waited for Spencer to react. After a few seconds he leant forwards like she said, still rocking, and tugging at strands of his hair.

‘Okay, great. Now for breathing. Breathe in for four,’ Garcia said, before inhaling deeply. ‘Now hold for four... Now breathe out for four... And hold for four.’ She was overemphasising her breaths, and wasn’t even sure if Reid was joining in, but after she had talked through the cycle a few times she noticed his rocking was slowing and he was now only tapping slightly at his scalp rather than pulling his hair.

‘Okay,’ Spencer said eventually, sitting up. ‘Thank you.’ He took his hands down from his scalp, quickly wiping tears from his face that he hoped Penelope hadn’t seen. If she did, she didn’t say anything. She offered him a glass of water which he accepted, and took a shaky sip. ‘How bad was it?’ He asked, staring at the ground.

‘Oh, you know,’ Penelope sighed. ‘Not horrible. Barely anyone even saw. Gideon wasn’t there and Hotch was occupied.’

Reid looked up at his friend. She wasn’t meeting his eye. ‘Garcia?’

‘Okay fine, you broke me! You profilers and your interrogation techniques,’ she said, scowling playfully at Reid. ‘It was not great. You fell on your face the second you walked in the door, yelled hello to me, JJ and Emily, made no effort to disguise the state you were in, and then I took you to my office, where you began a ramble about the etymology of the word computer, which I suppose is standard Spencer stuff, but what wasn’t standard Spencer stuff was when you fell quiet halfway though a sentence and then just stared blankly at the ceiling. At that point I left you alone to go to the briefing, and then I drove you here.’ She smiled at him sympathetically, ‘But it could have been worse?’

‘Jesus fucking Christ.’ Reid rubbed his face with both of his hands. ‘What time is it?’ 

‘About half seven,’ Penelope replied. ‘The jet should land pretty soon.’

‘What’s the case?’

‘Reid-’

‘What’s the case, Garcia?’ Spencer pressed.

‘I promise I’ll show you the case file when you’re feeling less rough. But not right now.’

Spencer clenched his fists. He was missing out on a whole case. He should be on that jet. It wasn’t Garcia’s fault, of course, it was his fault. His fucking fault. He had no control over his life anymore, he was stupid and helpless and pathetic. And yet somehow, although it was far from ideal, he was prepared to lose his job before trying to get clean. Clean was not an option. Oh, how his priorities had changed. Those months ago, when this had started to become a problem, he told Hotch that this job was more important to him than anything. That wasn’t true anymore. It had been eclipsed by this obsession that had taken root in him, like poisonous vines choking his brain and lungs and constricting his blood vessels. 

He laughed bitterly. ‘Hotch sent me home that day in an effort to help me save my job. I wasn’t supposed to be there, I was meant to be taking time off, and he noticed instantly that I was having cravings. It was easy to put two and two together, I mean, I’d just been kidnapped by a junkie, I was acting defensively, I was avoiding being at home. My hands were shaking because I’d been without a fix for half a week. The whole team would’ve noticed if he didn’t send me home, and I imagine the fact that they all would’ve found out at once there in the office would have made them speak to Hotch about it, and he would’ve been forced to act.

‘Maybe that was overly cautious, because I hadn’t taken anything of my own volition. But now look at me. That was Hotch trying to save my job, and a few months later I’m going to lose it anyway. And you and JJ and Derek know, and Emily probably knows. Did Hotch not see this coming? Maybe he...’ Reid sighed. ‘Maybe he expected better of me. He didn’t expect this to happen because I should’ve been better, and I let him down.’

‘Reid, no no no, you haven’t let anyone down, okay?’ Penelope said, shifting her hand towards him on the couch without actually touching him. ‘I don’t know what Hotch thought, nor do I know if sending you home that day was the right decision or not. But I swear to you, this is not your fault. Yeah, okay, you’re a genius, but you know what? So am I, kinda. But being crazy smart doesn’t mean you have the mental or physical strength to fight off something like this alone. I- I don’t think anybody could do that, regardless of how many PhDs they have.’

Reid nodded, finally looking up at Garcia. A million darker thoughts were gathering in his head, like storm clouds. Arguments against her logic, laments about how little he was worth. But he appreciated that Penelope was trying to help him so he kept it to himself. After a short silence, he asked, ‘what’s that smell?’

Garcia’s eyes lit up. ‘Oh! I made cookies. Well, they’re baking right now but should be done soon. Chocolate, your favourite.’

‘Thanks, Garcia.’ 

‘And I’ve got a few computers set up so I can work from my apartment for this case, so, you know, I can keep an eye on you,’ Penelope said, beaming.

‘You- you want me to stay here?’ Spencer asked. Garcia nodded. She looked so hopeful and optimistic, as if she wasn’t looking at a complete fuck up. _Which is what I am, a fuck up,_ Spencer thought. 

‘Yeah, I thought you could. For as long as you want. Seeing as neither of us have flown out for this case I thought it might be nice if we just hung out for a bit. I’d have company for once,’ Garcia said. Suddenly a high pitched beeping rang out. ‘Oh! That’s the oven. I’ll be right back.’ She got up and hurried out of sight.

Spencer watched her go, chewing his bottom lip nervously. There were so many reasons he couldn’t stay here. Penelope was being so nice to him, and to reject her hospitality would disappoint her. But if he stayed he knew he’d upset her even more. He lay back down on the sofa, contemplating what excuses he could make to leave, cookies completely forgotten. Before Garcia returned from the kitchen, exhaustion took a hold of him, and Reid fell asleep before he even realised he was tired.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I dont think there’s really a coffee machine lmao but its plot convenience


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains details of a case which mentions canon level violence and also a brief mention of abuse; please read at your own discretion.

When Spencer awoke, the first thing he noticed was Garcia’s voice in a different room. The second thing he noticed was a plate of chocolate cookies on the coffee table in front of him. And thirdly he realised a comforter had been thrown over him, and a pillow tucked under his head. Spencer sat up slowly, reaching for the glass of water that was still on the end table, and taking a sip whilst trying to make out what Garcia was saying. Her voice was quiet but it sounded as if she was talking to somebody.

‘Yeah, of course I can get you that. Credit card looks like it was last used... sixteen hours ago, at a gas station twelve miles south of the city. No, it doesn’t look like it. Okay, my darling, I’ll get right back at you with that.’

Of course. She was speaking to the team. She was working the case. _The case that you would be on if you hadn’t fucked up,_ Spencer scolded himself mentally.

‘Reid’s still passed out on my sofa, I think.’

Spencer’s ears pricked up at his name. He leaned towards her voice, straining to hear.

‘No, J. The poor boy’s clearly exhausted, and he said some stuff to me before and it’s... it’s not good. Well, tell Hotch that he’s still asleep then. Yeah, he shouldn’t be going out there. You know Reid though, the boy lives for cases, so... Yeah, good idea. I’ll try convince him. JJ he’s- okay fine, I’ll check.’ 

Reid heard a few footsteps before Garcia stepped into the room, wearing a headset with headphones and a mic. ‘Oh, Reid, you’re awake! Somebody wants to talk to you, is that okay?’

Spencer nodded, and was taken aback when Garcia removed her headset and placed it gingerly on his head. ‘It’s connected to the phone wirelessly,’ she explained. ‘When you’re done talking just shout me over.’ She went back to her study. 

‘Hello?’ Spencer said awkwardly, his voice croaky after sleep.

‘Spence, hey,’ JJ’s warm voice spoke in his ears. Her tone was hushed, as if to avoid being overheard. ‘How are you?’

‘Okay,’ Spencer replied. ‘Where are you? And what time is it? What’s the case?’

‘We’re in Chicago, it’s one thirty where you are, and you’ve only just woken up. Don’t you want at least a few minutes before you start profiling?’

‘No, I’m good,’ Spencer said, reaching out and taking one of the cookies from coffee table. ‘Go.’ He took a small bite.

‘Alright. We have four victims so far, two mother-daughter pairs, all white. Reported missing at least a week before their bodies were found, shot through the head.’

‘Mother-daughter pairs? Interesting. They must’ve been watched before being abducted. Also, it’s hard to abduct two people at once; is it possible we’re looking at multiple unsubs? And other than the gunshot is there any sign of torture or a sexual component to the murders?’ A million ideas and questions were already flying through Reid’s head, and he cursed himself again for not being there in person.

‘It could be more than one unsub, yes, but we haven’t found any evidence to back that up yet. In fact we’ve found very little evidence at the crime scenes so far. As for torture, there are rope burns on their wrists and ankles, and their bodies are bruised as if beaten before death. Bruises around the face aren’t that severe but there are more serious ones around the legs and torso which could’ve been done with a blunt object. It doesn’t seem sexual to me, it seems angry.’

Spencer hummed in agreement, taking another bite of his cookie. ‘Tell me this, JJ: what other family do the victims have? And what are the victims ages?’

‘The mother in the first pair has another son, aged 5, a half brother to the daughter. And in the second pair, there’s a step father and his teenage son. The first victims were aged 17 and 34, and the second pair aged 15 and 31. Why? You got a theory, Reid?’ JJ asked.

Reid, excited, felt almost as if he was buzzing with electricity. ‘The fact that the male members of the family were left alone suggests a hatred towards women. Both of the mothers were teenagers when they had their daughters. Single mothers, at least, that’s how they started out. The mother in the second pair of victims remarried, but you’ve not mentioned any biological fathers to me, so they’re out of the picture entirely.

‘All of this, together with the anger you described in the beatings of the victims, suggests to me that you’re looking for just one unsub, a white male in his 20s to mid 30s, who has a deep hatred for women, caused by being raised by a single mother who gave birth to him in his teens. Perhaps he was abused by her, perhaps she enabled abuse- I can’t guess with the limited information I have. I would say that based on what you’ve told me alone, that you’re looking for somebody acting out a revenge fantasy. Killing mothers that were like his own, and their teenage daughters who were around the same age his own mother was when she either fell pregnant or gave birth to him. I say one unsub because the motive is too specific to be shared and sustained between multiple.’ 

‘Huh,’ JJ said. ‘Doctor Reid, you never fail to impress. And you did that after just waking up and without even being here? Pretty good.’ 

Spencer could hear the smile in her voice, and started to flap one of his hands happily. 

Then Penelope stepped back into the living room. ‘Hey Reid? I need JJ back, I’ve got some information to share with her. You can speak with her later.’

‘Penelope wants you,’ Spencer said to JJ, a little disappointed. He was enjoying feeling useful, and the case sounded interesting. ‘Bye, JJ.’

‘Bye, Spence. And rest up, okay? I’ll speak to you later.’

Spencer removed the headset and passed it back to Garcia, who took it and went back to her study. The happy feeling in him from before had deflated. He should be there in person. It was his own fault that he wasn’t. He could be out there, looking at the crime scenes themselves, talking to people. But instead he was waking up an hour and a half past noon and eating chocolate cookies on Garcia’s couch.

After a while, Penelope came out from her study again, this time sans head set. She found Spencer curled up on the couch and a steaming mug of coffee on the coffee table, next to an empty plate. 

‘Hey, sweet doctor,’ she said, sitting next to him on the couch. ‘I can make you some proper food if you want? You must be pretty hungry.’

‘Garcia...’ Spencer sighed. He sat up. ‘I appreciate everything you’ve done for me, but I can’t stay. I need to leave.’

‘You can’t go out to Chicago, if that’s what you’re implying. They’ve got a handle on things and you need a rest.’ Her voice was gentle.

‘No, no, it’s not that.’ He rubbed his forehead. ‘It’s...’

‘Go on,’ Penelope encouraged.

‘It’s just.’ Spencer sighed again, trying to choose his words carefully. ‘Don’t take this the wrong way, but it feels like you’re trying to keep me here to force me to get clean. Like you’re trying to rehabilitate me. You can tell me that it’s because you’d just appreciate my company, but the truth is, Garcia, that I’m obviously not going to take anything at your apartment, especially when you’re here checking up on me, and I’m sure that’s what your intention is. But you can’t force me to do that. It’s- it’s my choice when to get clean and _if_ I even get clean, and as shitty as this is you can’t make me give up my habit. And even if I were to agree to try and get clean, I- I can barely go 24 hours without a fix now, and for me to just stay here with you would be like quitting cold turkey. And if I were to quit, quitting cold turkey would be my last choice.’ He looked up at Garcia, and she looked so crestfallen that he immediately looked away out of guilt.

‘But I _do_ like your company,’ she said in a small voice.

Spencer ignored her, standing up from the sofa and looking around until he found his go bag and messenger bag in a corner. He found his shoes next to the door and pulled them on.

‘Spencer, please don’t go,’ said Garcia.

‘Thank you for the ride and the cookies and for letting me crash on your couch,’ Spencer said, ignoring her pleas. He opened the apartment door.

‘Spencer, _stay_ ,’ Garcia begged once more.

Reid hesitated for a second, his back to her. Then his resolve settled, and he left.

Sitting helplessly on the couch, Penelope watched the steam from Reid’s half-drunk coffee curl into the air. She thought about chasing after him, when she heard a ringing from her study. She hurried to put her headset on and answer the call.

‘Hey, sweetheart, I need a favour,’ Morgan’s voice spoke up from the other end.

‘Morgan please tell me this case isn’t going to take too long, please,’ Garcia said, brushing over his request.

‘What’s up, baby girl? Is Reid okay?’

‘No! Reid is not okay! He- he just left my apartment, he’s going home, he said he couldn’t stay here because before too long he’d need to- ah- you know. I should’ve chased after him but then you called and I-’

‘Sshh, Penelope, shh,’ Morgan said soothingly.

‘I’m so worried about him,’ she said. Her voice was shaking.

‘When we come home we’ll talk to him okay? All of us, together.’

‘What, like an intervention?’

‘If that’s what he needs.’

‘I don’t know what he needs. No amount of googling will give me a good answer about how to fix this. The one time I really need to know something and the internet is letting me down.’

‘Baby girl, it’ll be okay,’ Morgan assured, but Penelope detected some anxiety in his tone.

‘I don’t know if it will, Derek. I don’t know if it will.’


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The team visit Spencer at his apartment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains mentions of death and thoughts about death. Please read at your own discretion.

Spencer slammed the door to his apartment shut behind him. Then suddenly all the energy in his body receded, and he crumped to the floor.

‘Shit,’ he mumbled through sobs. ‘Shit, shit, SHIT!’ He screamed, bringing down his fists on the floor next to him. This was it. He was finished. For months he had been watching his life, like a tall tower, slowly crumble, brick by brick, and today he watched just the right stone fall out for the whole structure to come crashing down. He crouched against the door, head in his hands, tugging at his hair, rocking back and forth and crying loudly. 

_‘Spencer, stay.’_

The words echoed in his head, over and over. Garcia had sounded so _heartbroken._ Everything was messed up. He was going to lose everything. He opened his go bag and dug through the clothes until he found what he was looking for - he brought out his fist, enclosed around a syringe. With a cry of desperate anger he hurled it across the room.

‘This is your fucking fault,’ Spencer sobbed bitterly. He wasn’t entirely sure if he was talking to himself or to the drugs.

Eventually, after the tears had stopped, and after minutes of staring numbly into space, Reid picked himself up from the floor and stumbled to his bedroom, dragging his bags with him. Once inside, he all but fell onto his bed, before fishing out the drugs and another syringe from his bag. He loathed himself as he drew up the dosage. The same amount as the previous night, the highest dose he’d ever taken. A thought flickered across his mind: _you should try something else._ It’s a thought Spencer had had a few times but desperately tried to ignore, and yet every time it came back it seemed to be a little louder. _Your dealer could easily get you something stronger. Morphine? Heroin?_

‘Shut up,’ Reid whispered, rolling up his sleeve. And then it was in his veins again, and the thought went away, as did everything else. 

* * * 

Spencer awoke, and oddly, it was brighter than he remembered it being. At first he was confused, but then he glanced over at the digital clock on the bedroom table. It was the next morning. Crap. He must’ve passed out after coming down from his high, and he had slept for almost 15 hours. He contemplated going back to sleep, but the excruciating headache behind his eyes convinced him otherwise. He got up and staggered to the kitchen to pour himself a glass of water. He drained the glass and poured himself another before making his way to the couch. The sunlight coming in through the windows wasn’t helping him, and he shut his eyes tightly. Tears were starting to form in the corners of his eyes at the pain of it. He stumbled back to his bedroom, fetching his weighted blanket and a chewy before returning to the couch. He cocooned himself, put the chewy between his teeth, and closed his eyes once more.

The next few days - at least, it seemed like a few days, Spencer couldn’t be sure - passed in a haze. Drugs, falling asleep, waking up and lying and staring into space, barely moving. Every now and then he remembered to check his phone and see how many more missed calls and unread texts (mostly from Garcia) had accumulated. He felt too guilty and anxious to open or reply to them. At one point during a come down, Spencer thought: maybe he was dying. Maybe these were his final days, and he was slipping slowly towards the end, one long minute at a time. Or maybe he was already dead. Sometimes everything felt so far away and hazy, and at times he felt so disconnected from his body it was as if he was floating. Sometimes wondered if he was a ghost.

He wondered who would miss him.

A sharp knocking pulled him from one of these such musings. Reid looked toward the apartment door, surprised. He sat up halfway from the couch, before deciding it probably wasn’t worth the effort. He lay back down again.

‘Reid? Kid, we know you’re in there. Let us in.’

Spencer groaned. The unmistakable voice of Derek Morgan.

‘Reid, if you don’t answer I’m gonna assume that you’re lying dead in your own vomit, and I’ll kick the door down. Don’t test me.’ There was a sharp edge of concern to Morgan’s voice.

‘Go away,’ Spencer grumbled.

‘Reid! Oh, thank god.’ Penelope’s voice. How many people were outside?

There was the sound of a key turning in the lock, before the door swung open to reveal Morgan, Garcia, JJ and- _Emily?_

‘JJ, that’s not why I gave you my spare key,’ Reid said. JJ looked like she was going to retort, before suddenly tackling Reid in a hug that knocked the wind from him. She was quickly followed by Garcia, who rushed to his side on the couch.

‘Jesus Christ, Spence, you _terrified_ us. Why haven’t you answered any of our calls? Or texts?’ JJ said frantically, holding him in an iron grip.

‘I lost my phone, I think,’ Spencer replied quietly, hugging her back. He hadn’t realised how cold he was until he felt JJ’s warmth against him.

‘Reid, your phone is right there on the floor in front of you,’ Morgan said, eyebrow raised.

Shooting a look at Morgan, Spencer kicked his phone under the couch. ‘What phone?’ He said, feigning innocence. 

Morgan walked towards him, and for a second Spencer thought he might yell, before the stern look on his face melted away into one of relief. He ruffled Spencer’s hair, before sitting in an arm chair across from him. ‘You can act grumpy all you want, kid, but we know you’re secretly pleased to see us. You’ve been holed up in here by yourself for four days.’

Four whole days? Spencer tried not to let the shock from that revelation show on his face. ‘How was the case?’ He asked. 

‘It was fine, Reid, and we’ll tell you about it after,’ Garcia said. 

Spencer noticed that Garcia was holding onto multiple bulky plastic bags. ‘What are those, Garcia? And after what?’

‘Groceries,’ Garcia said. ‘I figured your kitchen would probably be empty, and that you wouldn’t have eaten, despite the fact that it’s already quite late. Actually, Emily, maybe you can help me put these away?’

Oh, yes. Emily. She had barely moved from the door and hadn’t said a word since she’d arrived. Perhaps she felt as awkward as Reid did, being in his apartment for the first time in these circumstances.

‘Sure,’ Prentiss said. Reid didn’t look up at her, but listened to her footsteps as she followed Garcia to the kitchen. 

‘After what?’ Spencer asked again, looking at Derek and JJ (who had finally released him.)

‘Reid, you must know we’re not here to talk about the case. We’re here because...’ Derek paused, as if searching for the right words. ‘Because a lot has happened in the past few days. First you show up at work high, then you leave Garcia’s like that, and then you completely shut off connection with the outside world for four days. And something tells me that you weren’t exactly taking care of yourself in that time.’

‘What, so you’ve come to lecture me? Or- or tell me that Hotch is about to fire me?’ Spencer spat irritably.

‘God, no,’ JJ said softly, taking one of Spencer’s hands in her own and squeezing it. ‘Spence...’ she took a shaky breath. ‘We’re all terrified for you. You _cannot_ go on like this any longer. We’re here because you need help. You _need_ help.’

‘So it’s a fucking intervention?’ Spencer exclaimed angrily, snatching his hand away. ‘I’m- I’m not a goddamn charity case.’ He stood up - a little too fast, making his head spin and his vision momentarily cloud over. ‘Come and look at Doctor Spencer Reid, he was pretty respectable before he was kidnapped and tortured. Now look at him, how pathetic! What a spectacle. Nobody ever thought they’d see it! He was so fucking put together! And you know what, we all better go see whilst we can because-’ his voice broke - ‘because the way he’s going, in a few months he won’t even be here. If that.’ 

‘Spencer...’ JJ said, barely above a whisper. Tears were rolling down her face, and Spencer realised, down his, too. He had never yelled at JJ before. But the guilt he felt at it was just a drop in the ocean of hurt that he was struggling to stay afloat in right now. He glanced over at Derek. The man looked stunned, and pained. Spencer turned towards the door to see Emily and Penelope, the latter with a trembling hand over her mouth. 

‘You know what,’ Reid said, glaring at the floor. ‘Don’t talk to me.’ With that, he left the room, the two women stepping aside for him, and closed himself in his bedroom. He sunk to the floor and crouched next to his bed, rocking. The pressure of the bed against his back was grounding. His right fist went to his mouth and he chewed on his fingers, eyes screwed shut. Trying to shut the world out.

There was a soft knock at the door.

‘I said don’t talk to me,’ said Spencer, not looking up from the floor.

‘Yeah, but you weren’t really talking to me, were you?’

Reid looked up, to see the last thing he was expecting: Emily Prentiss, in his bedroom. He hastily removed his fist from his mouth and stopped rocking. He still wasn’t very comfortable stimming around her yet; he didn’t know what she thought about his autism.

Prentiss furrowed her brows at him, before glancing around his room, eyes coming to rest on his nightstand. She picked up his chewy gingerly and tossed it at him. ‘That’s probably a little better than your fingers.’

Reid set it on the carpet next to him, too embarrassed to chew it in front of her. ‘I didn’t want anybody to talk to me,’ he muttered, avoiding her gaze.

‘And yet, despite your bedroom door having one, you declined to use the lock. Which suggests to me that you actually did want somebody to follow you, whether you were conscious of that or not.’ Prentiss sat down against the door, a few feet away from him. ‘Contrary to what you might think, I really like you, Doctor Reid.’ 

Spencer looked up at her, confused. She was smiling slightly at him. 

‘Sure, we got off to a rocky start,’ she continued, ‘but who can blame you? One of the first cases I worked was probably the most traumatic of your career to date, you developed a drug problem very much against your will, and here I was, a woman you didn’t really know, trying to figure you out. And you know what? I think I have. At least, I think I’ve figured out something that everybody else out there doesn’t seem to realise.’ She jerked her head towards the door.

‘Okay, yeah, I know what you’re thinking,’ Prentiss went on. ‘How can I know something they don’t? They’ve known you for years. They love you like a brother. I admit, we don’t have that kind of relationship right now. But we’re still on this team together, and I really want to belong here. As part of this team, Reid, I’d take a bullet for you. And I’d put my life in your hands.’

Reid didn’t know what to say. She sounded deadly serious. How could she say that? After he had been so rude to her before. And she barely knew him. He wasn’t worth taking a bullet for.

Emily chuckled at the stunned expression on his face. ‘It’s true, Reid. Do you wanna know what it is I’ve figured out about you? It’s that you _do_ want somebody to help you. Desperately. You don’t say that to anybody, and in fact you do your best to push us away. But it’s too exaggerated to be genuine, if you ask me. The way you acted back there, that wasn’t a man that didn’t want to be helped. That was the act of a man who so desperately _wants_ help, but is afraid he is beyond it. Afraid that his friends will be unable to help him and he will disappoint them again. Or maybe a man who doesn’t believe he is worthy of help. Either way, that was the act of somebody who thinks he’s lost everything, and desperately wants to be rescued.

‘JJ, Morgan and Garcia have all failed to recognise this because they’re all simply too shocked. They’ve known you forever, and they’re terrified of losing you. And maybe they feel guilty, too. I haven’t known you that long. Fresh eyes, you see.’

Spencer stayed quiet, tugging at end of his sleeve. Emily thought he seemed as if he was waiting for her to continue, so she did. ‘Being the youngest in college, and the youngest on the team, you’ve always had to fight for respect, right? Maybe you’re scared that having a problem makes you weak, and it’ll endanger the image you’ve put out of a man who can take care of himself. But you know what?’ She leaned forward, towards him. ‘You’re not weak. This doesn’t make you weak. And you’re not beyond help, Reid. You’ll never be beyond help. Those three out there didn’t come here to pity you. They’re your friends, they want to help. I didn’t come here to pity you. I knew you had a problem, and I came to help you because _I care_.’

Reid sighed, finally looking over at Prentiss. She gave him a small smile, and he returned it. ‘I wasn’t expecting that,’ he said.

‘I know,’ she replied. ‘Despite your expansive knowledge, there are still some things you don’t know.’ After a few moments of comfortable silence, she held out her hand. ‘Emily Prentiss,’ she said. ‘I want to be friends.’

Reid raised a hand awkwardly. ‘Doctor Spencer Reid. I don’t shake hands, but we can still be friends.’

Emily beamed at him. ‘Great. As your newly established friend, I have to inform you that it’s my duty to help you out in a rough spot. Now come on, I think Garcia is cooking something.’ She got up from the floor and left the room.

Spencer remained on the floor for a moment, processing what Emily had said to him, before putting his chewy in his mouth and following her. 

God, of all the people that could’ve gotten Spencer to consider help, he would not have guessed it would be Emily Prentiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Emily Prentiss has entered the chat*


End file.
